


a little fall of rain

by LittleLynn



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Clone War era, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Life-Affirming Sex, M/M, Qui-Gon Jinn Lives, Reverse Big Bang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:21:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26866576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleLynn/pseuds/LittleLynn
Summary: The pause let him take stock of things he would rather ignore, the ache in his hip that was growing worse with every mission, the pain in his elbow that twinged and and hurt more every day. There were scrapes and bruises hidden under his armour that were being slow to heal, carefully concealed so that his men wouldn’t protest to him giving them the last of their bacta supplies whenever he could.He wasn’t sure what was holding him together, sheer force of will alone, he imagined. Qui-Gon's hands, he knew.
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 10
Kudos: 113
Collections: Backwards QuiObi Bang





	a little fall of rain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lilibet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilibet/gifts).



> For the breathtaking piece by Lilibet, I can only hope I did it justice <3

The war had taken many things from Obi-Wan, and moments of peace were one of them, what had once been guaranteed during his stays at the temple, were now snatched moments that he coveted more than was proper for a jedi. 

It was raining, but in the distance Obi-Wan could see slivers of the night sky, purples, greens and blues swirling around and dotted with stars, particularly beautiful on this planet. He wasn’t even sure what planet it was, he moved around so much these days, and got so little sleep.

But he had one of those coveted moments now, a few minutes to step away from his battalion and simply breathe, turning his face up into the light patter of rain, close his eyes and pause for a moment. He barely closed his eyes nowadays, barely slept, it was a balm to be able to do it now, his eyelids immediately feeling too impossibly heavy to ever open again. 

The pause let him take stock of things he would rather ignore, the ache in his hip that was growing worse with every mission, the pain in his elbow that twinged and and hurt more every day. There were scrapes and bruises hidden under his armour that were being slow to heal, carefully concealed so that his men wouldn’t protest to him giving them the last of their bacta supplies whenever he could. 

He wasn’t sure what was holding him together, sheer force of will alone, he imagined. Qui-Gon's hands, he knew.

In the distance he could hear sounds of animals, a rare treat for him these days, as most animals fled the fighting on every planet; he knew that took a greater toll on Qui-Gon than it did him.

Qui-Gon, a guilt that was hard to banish whenever he thought on his master, his lover, his one steady constant throughout this nightmare. Guilt because Obi-Wan knew he was the only reason Qui-Gon was even a jedi anymore, let alone mired in this mess of a war. 

His old master had railed against the creation of an army, much less the involvement of the jedi, every point he’d made had been true and indisputable, but left no room for other indisputable facts as well; that if all the jedi chose passivism, then the republic would not stand a chance, that if they took a stand over the clear immorality of leading cloned men to war, then the republic was condemned to a society that had no such moral qualms anyway. And the sith that they all knew was pulling the sepratist strings, that was the jedi’s duty to defend against. 

Qui-Gon had taken his hands and asked him to leave with him, desperately one night, unable to reconcile an order that would go to war with what he believed. The same night that Obi-Wan had tearfully informed Qui-Gon that he had accepted the position of general, and was being sent into the front lines. 

They had never fought like they fought that night, there had been no raised voices, no shouting or thrown items; Anakin hadn’t even realised they’d fought at all. But every word had cut them both, as Qui-Gon expressed his belief that Obi-Wan was wrong to fight, that he could not be a part of the bloodshed, that he needed to leave; and as Obi-Wan had trembled and clutched at his own clothes like a youngling, in so much pain but ready to let him go, and had said nothing to stop him.

He said things, these days, it made the guilt festering in his chest grow every time he asked Qui-Gon to stay, but staying silent hurt Qui-Gon instead, and he couldn’t abide by that. Besides, no matter his guilt, every word he said was true. Back when they had fought, perhaps he could have forged into this war without Qui-Gon by his side, could have lived without what he had never known, but now he didn’t know how he could cope if the one relief to him was taken away.

That night Obi-Wan had gone to bed crying silently, struggling to release anything to the force no matter how he tried, so sure Qui-Gon would be gone in the morning, and before Obi-Wan had found the courage to say any of the things that had been brewing in his chest for so long. 

But when he had woken Qui-Gon had his own battalion and an unreadable, lost look in his eyes. Obi-Wan had meant to argue, to demand he leave, he knew what war would do to a man like Qui-Gon, the toll it would take, but when he had opened his mouth to speak, only a sob had come out, and he had collapsed desperately into his arms.

Even officially bedecked as a general Qui-Gon had been reticent at first, but then news of an atrocity on a small world, perpetrated by Dooku reached them, and something in Qui-Gon resigned itself to the war.

Qui-Gon had stayed because he couldn’t bear to leave Obi-Wan alone out here, and he had stayed because of misplaced guilt over the fall of his old master. Obi-Wan had been unable to alleviate the guilt of the latter from Qui-Gon, and Qui-Gon the former from Obi-Wan.

Perhaps after the war, whatever the outcome, the order would simply collapse, every jedi so weighed down by guilt that without the threat of imminent destruction keeping them going, everyone simply gave way. 

At first the council had give Qui-Gon his own orders, missions far away from Obi-Wan with his battalion, but he’d just ignored the council’s orders, only ever taking his troops where Obi-Wan was sent. He incurred their ire, they threatened to expel him if he couldn’t follow orders, but they all knew they couldn’t afford to lose a warrior like Qui-Gon, and every jedi was valuable. 

So the council, fuming with a frustration they would always deny, gave up and simply sent them together. It meant they were faced with the most dangerous missions from their bolstered numbers and dual jedi leading them, but they were together, and Obi-Wan wouldn’t have traded it, not for any of the battle wounds he was hiding from everyone, even Qui-Gon, unwilling to be the cause of another line of stress on his brow.

Qui-Gon would be back soon, was due at their rendezvous point at any moment, a rare mission where Qui-Gon had consented to even the smallest separation between them, it had been easy, not a sepratist stronghold, and Ventress had not been present, as the reports had warned. By their standards, it had been easy, and Obi-Wan listened out for a distant hum of a transporter carrying the battalion past the steady tap of rain on his armour. 

They were attached, it was an open secret, everyone knew. The council turned a blind eye to it because of the exceptional circumstances, a rare concession from them because of how large a toll the war was taking, everyone needed a crutch, something to cling to. For Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon it had become each other, 

Obi-Wan loved Qui-Gon more than anything else, more than the order, more than the republic or the galaxy. He had no idea how he reconciled that with staying in the war that eroded Qui-Gon at the edges. He tried not to think about it, usually didn’t have the time or energy for it. Shut his eyes and buried the guilt and pressed on. When it was over he would leave with Qui-Gon, they could go wherever he wanted, be whatever he wanted, Obi-Wan promised himself it was true. 

He couldn’t forgive himself if he abandoned the jedi, his men, the republic now. But he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if his Qui-Gon had lost something irreplaceable by the end either. A vicious cycle that he couldn’t escape, he hurt and he hurt, no matter what he did. And his shoulder hurt where an open wound chafed against his armour, but Cody had needed the bacta for his head, and that had been that. 

The night sky was beautiful, the rain was refreshing, and Obi-Wan wished it hadn’t been so peaceful, it was easier when he didn’t have the chance to think about anything. The pain in his body or the ache in his chest.

He was distracted when he finally heard that familiar hum coming over one of the rolling hills, and turned towards it smiling. Soon he would be able to sink back into Qui-Gon’s arms, that always had a way of chasing everything else away. 

“General Kenobi, Master Jinn’s battalion has returned,” Cody told him needlessly but dutifully through the crackling com. 

Obi-Wan turned towards the noise, made his way towards where it would come to a halt, Qui-Gon and all his men packed into the ship, he hadn’t heard news of any casualties on either side, so perhaps tonight would be lighter than usual. 

He was impatient for the transporters to reach them, they were perhaps fifty feet away when a large blast hit it the lead ship, coming from the east, it happened so suddenly it took Obi-Wan a moment to register what was happening at all. 

Tanks coming over another hill,  _ he should have heard them _ , firing on the transporter a second time as if it wasn’t already a flaming wreckage. His men were scrambling for their gear, rallying themselves quickly towards the surprise assault, Cody barking orders to the men as Obi-Wan’s legs started moving him, a stumbling run getting faster and faster towards the transporter. Half destroyed and aflame and with Qui-Gon inside. 

A third blast was fired and Obi-Wan was close enough to get caught by the blast radius, thrown backward and into a boulder, not fast enough with the force in his shell shocked state to do anything to stop the metal rain of shrapnel that scratched viciously at his face. He scrambled to his feet, ignored the pain and threw himself towards the transporter. 

He should help his men, he knew his duty, he knew that they stood the best chance if they defeated their assailants as fast as possible, but he couldn’t steer himself away from the transporter, he had to know - he had to - . The force was suddenly so bloated with death, emanating from that transporter that even with their bond Obi-Wan couldn’t even tell if Qui-Gon was  _ alive _ . 

If he was dead, it was Obi-Wan’s fault. He would never have been here, would never have been anywhere close if it weren’t for Obi-Wan. He knew with perfect clarity while chaos was exploding around him that he would never be able to move on from this. 

Headless of whether the tank was done firing, not hearing the shouts from his men to their general, Obi-Wan wrenched off the door to the transporter with a wild pull of the force, sending the hunk of metal flying towards the tanks, not looking to see if it helped at all. He pushed inside, ignoring Cody’s shouts that it wasn’t safe, he was choking on death the moment he stepped inside. 

Clones were clawing their way out the wreckage of twisted metal, growing more and more deadly as the fires burned longer, heating the metal and making it burn on contact. But for every pair of troopers he saw helping each other out of the transporter, Obi-Wan stepped over four bodies. 

It weighed him down, so heavy on his shoulders as he crawled deeper into the ship, unable to stand for the ruination, he knew where Qui-Gon would have been, on the bridge of the land ship, steering his troops back to their camp, where they should have been safe. The door to the bridge was mangled and warped, he didn’t bother trying to pull at it with his hands, only strained desperately at it with the force until it relented and was ripped away, cracking ceiling groaning dangerously as more metal supporting it was taken away. 

He was such a tangled mess of emotions that the council would have expelled him instantly as a liability if they had seen his clawing through the wreckage instead of helping his men, reaffirmed in their belief that attachment should be forbidden in all forms. 

The bridge was burning, a chaotic mess of fallen beams and exploded consoles, the force swollen with lost life, feeling like an exposed nerve in Obi-Wan. He rocked on his feet as he took in the room, at least ten dead troopers, one alive that Obi-Wan bent down immediately to help, barked through the doorway for someone to help him, relieved when bruised arms reached out to help a comrade out of the transport and he was free to let the state of the room overwhelm him. 

He couldn’t even see Qui-Gon, he couldn’t feel him through the fog of death, a fog his master - his  _ everything _ \- could so easily be a part of. Obi-Wan brought a hand to his mouth, feeling bile rise in his throat, trying to block out the stench of burnt flesh, he couldn’t -. 

But then a groan, so faint he hardly heard it, and through the force - through their  _ bond _ \- he felt life, battered and broken life but  _ life _ nonetheless. Obi-Wan fell upon the wreckage frantically, following the trace of life through a fire and out the other side, finding familiar long limbs struggling to push off a console, smashed free of the ship and crushing Qui-Gon’s head and chest under its weight. 

Qui-Gon should have been able to defend himself from it with the force, but it wasn’t difficult to imagine what had happened, that he’d reached out and tried to shield his men instead, to no avail as he had been thrown to the floor and bashed over the head. 

“Qui-Gon!” Obi-Wan called, grabbing Qui-Gon’s flailing hand and squeezing it, unsure if he could hear him over the din, the ringing that must be in his ears. “I'm going to get you out my love I promise, I promise, hold still for me.”

Qui-Gon tensed when his hand was taken and then sagged to the floor in naked relief, his large body trembling with pain as Obi-Wan hauled the console off him with the force. Qui-Gon’s clothes and armour were blackened and singed from the heating metal, the skin one one side of his face pink and burned from it, his beard scorched, but he was alive. His burns should be so much worse, he must have been using the force to lessen it somehow but Obi-Wan didn’t have time to dwell on how, only grateful that Qui-Gon wasn’t torn apart with first degree burns.

“Come on, Qui-Gon, hold onto me, I need you to stand, please one more push for me,” Obi-Wan coaxed, hauled Qui-Gon’s arm over his shoulders and trying to push them both to standing. Something was obscuring his vision and it took Obi-Wan a moment to realise he was crying, his tears hissing as they fell to the metal floor. 

He had no idea how extensive Qui-Gon’s injuries were, no matter how intact he looked from the outside. He would carry him but the passageways in the destroyed ship were too narrow, he’d never get through them, and not without burning Qui-Gon more and in some places not at all. 

“Please my love, please, they could fire on the ship again we need to get out,” Obi-Wan pleaded, pushing a sluggish wave of force healing from his fingers into Qui-Gon, but the atmosphere was so choked with death it was hard to get it to respond at all, though Qui-Gon’s eyes fluttered half open, and he did manage to push himself to stand. 

There was a groan and a screeching and the floor destabilised between them as more of the transporter caved in on itself, not another hit but Obi-Wan knew it would make it harder for them to get out, they needed to move fast, an impossible task, and Obi-Wan needed to get Qui-Gon’s men, needed to check the whole ship for them, he knew Qui-Gon would never forgive himself if he left any survivor inside to burn alive in a cage of molten metal. 

He heaved Qui-Gon’s heavy body - not quite a dead weight, but close to it - past the fires on the bridge and through the doorway, the next part of the crushed passageway was blocked and Obi-Wan burned his hands clearing it, using the force to support Qui-Gon, thankful that Qui-Gon was too out of it to realise how badly he was damaging his hands, the faster they got through this the better. 

The air in the ship was getting black with smoke, becoming more and more dangerous to breathe, and Obi-Wan was oddly grateful that it was obscuring some of the bodies of Qui-Gon’s men from view, but he had no doubt his old master knew exactly what they were stepping over. 

They both gasped for air, Qui-Gon’s breath rattling worryingly as he drew in lungfuls of clean air. The fight was still going on, but Obi-Wan’s troops were swarming the tank, it should be over soon, they were winning, though their losses would be unthinkable. He moved Qui-Gon away from the burning ship, a safe distance before he lay him down on the grass, grabbing a nearby pack, abandoned at the outbreak of violence and putting it under Qui-Gon’s head. 

“My men,” Qui-Gon said, voice thin, eyes struggling to focus, their hands wound together.

“I know, I know Qui-Gon I’m going back for them,” Obi-Wan said, pressing a desperate kiss to Qui-Gon’s knuckles before turning back to the transporter, only for Qui-Gon’s grip to go tight, turning back to find wild, panicked eyed. 

“Don’t-!”

“Qui you wont forgive yourself if anyone who could have been saved wasn’t,” Obi-Wan said, peeling Qui-Gons fingers from his hand, he was usually too strong for Obi-Wan to do such a thing, let alone so easily. 

“Not you,” Qui-Gon pleaded, his eyes wet, his body shaking with pain, the shock settling in, fear around his eyes. 

“I can’t send anyone else back in there,” Obi-Wan shook his head. “I will come back to you I promise, I promise Qui-Gon.” 

He pulled himself free, ignoring Qui-Gon’s desperate, throaty noise of protest and forged back towards the transport. Qui-Gon was safe, he was alive, he was hurt, badly, but out of imminent danger, and he would need to know that everything had been done to save as many as possible.

What was left of Qui-Gon’s battalion were blooded and burned, coughing and gathered around the transporter, doing head counts and trying to put out the worst of the fire with little success until a crack of thunder sounded above them, and the drizzle turned into a downpour. 

“General Kenobi, you got Qui-Gon out?” Driver asked him, all of Qui-Gon’s clones well drilled not to call him general by now. 

“Yes, I’m going back in for survivors, he’s over there, he’s badly hurt but he needs you boys safe,” Obi-Wan said, voice frantic, and pulling off the pauldrons of his armour, not wanting them to wind up melted into his skin if the fires stoked themselves back up again. 

“You heard the man, split in two, support the 212th and start tending to the wounded,” Driver barked, before throwing his own helmet and gauntlets aside and standing beside Obi-wan, poised to enter the ship. 

“There is no need for us both to risk our lives,” Obi-Wan said, but he was already climbing through the crushed door, knowing time was precious. 

“With all due respect general, it’s my men in here,” Driver said as the wall of heat crashed into them both. 

They searched the whole ship, the rain steadily putting the fires out but it was replacing the smoke with steam, the interior becoming no more easy to breath or see in for the change. They managed not to become trapped or injured beyond a few more burns each, and they saved a total of seven more troopers; more than Obi-Wan had expected, but less than he had hoped. 

“When it’s safe we’ll recover the fallen,” Driver said as they finished their final sweep, resigned to the knowledge that there was no one left to save. 

“I should check on my men,” Obi-Wan said, feeling uneasy at how he had left them, at the way he only really wanted to race back to Qui-Gon’s side.

“Cody has it well in hand, you should go to Qui-Gon, you know what a terrible patient he is for everyone but you,” Driver said, letting Obi-Wan off the hook more deftly than anyone would give the usually so brash trooper credit for.

Obi-Wan couldn’t do much more than nod and obey, taking the permission he was given, even if Driver had little authority to give it. Ells, the 102nd’s medic was with Qui-Gon, applying bacta to his wounds and Obi-Wan knew from a distance that the lack of protest from Qui-Gon was a bad sign, and he fell into a run. He couldn’t regret going back for the men, but he hated himself at the same time for ever leaving Qui-Gon’s side when he was injured. 

The troopers were split into three groups; those dealing with their newly taken prisoners, those tended to the wounded, and the wounded themselves. A makeshift shelter was being pulled together from the tents, and Obi-Wan’s worry flared by the way a separate one was being erected over Qui-Gon, as if they were scared to move him. 

He skidded to his knees by Qui-Gon’s side, his lover’s forehead was clammy with sweat and he was drifting in an out of consciousness but his eyes fluttered open when he felt Obi-Wan’s presence beside him, he didn’t seem able to speak, but his eyes said enough, as they always did. 

“I’m okay, I’m okay Qui-Gon. We got seven more men out. I’ve got you, you can rest now,” Obi-Wan attempted to soothe, trying to keep the wild edge out of his voice and mostly succeeding. 

Qui-Gon’s face was half covered with bacta, his armour and shirts had been removed revealing more burning and huge purple and red bruises over the expanse of his chest where the console had crushed him, his stomach looked pushed out of shape, one side of his chest wasn’t rising properly, the scar from Maul’s saber moving strangely with his lopsided breathing, one shoulder was clearly dislocated and his breath rattled with every inhale.

Qui-Gon squeezed his hand weakly, before falling unconscious more completely than before, and Obi-Wan had to fight hard not to let terror grip him. He had done this, he had put Qui-Gon here. By extension, he had put every clone in that transport here as well. 

“What’s wrong with him?” Qui-Gon asked, looking up at Ells who was frantically attaching wires to Qui-Gon’s battered chest. 

“Don’t have the stuff to say for sure, but best guess, multiple crush injuries, internal bleeding, broken bones, I’m worried one of his shattered ribs might be about to puncture his lung, a definitely concession and head laceration that might need stitches even with the bacta, I’ll need to check in a few hours.” Ells never minced his words, Obi-Wan was grateful for it, even now. 

“Is he going to live?” 

“I’m going to do my damndest. Ricky and Jets have already sent out a distress signal, a medical evac shouldn’t be long, he’s just got to hold on for a little while sir.”

“Thank you, Ells. Is there anything I can do for him?” 

“Yeah you can let me look you over as well.”

“I’m fine.”

“Sure, I believe you.”

“There are more serious cases to look at.”

“I’m not the only medic, everything is under control except for you two right now. I can’t leave his side really but you’re here I can help you. Qui-Gon’s told us a little bit about the force, talks about you whenever you’re not in earshot - it’s annoying, sorry sir but it is - so I don’t understand it much, but I know that when you’re in pain he can feel it. That isn’t going to be helping him any right now,” Ells said, voice firm and making far too much sense. 

Obi-Wan let Ells look over his hands one at a time so that he could keep contact with Qui-Gon, having a bacta salve spread over the germs, feeling better immediately, more was put on the bash on his head, the cuts on his face from the shrapnel he’d completely forgotten about in the wake of everything else. 

Ells asked him if anything else hurt, and Obi-Wan thought of the open wound on his shoulder that he knew was getting worse, his hip, his elbow, all the scrapes and bruises under his clothes. But he also thought that the supplies were limited until the medical evac arrived, and there were so many in worse shape than him, and he told Ells no, staying resolute under his narrowed eyes until the trooper accepted it as the truth it wasn’t. 

Obi-Wan ignored the fact that he could feel the wound on his shoulder weeping, blood and whatever else after three days of festering, and turned his attention to Qui-Gon. He would get himself treated properly on the medievac ship, after Qui-Gon and their men had been properly seen to, when he could convince himself he wasn’t taking from someone else by having his more minor injuries seen to. 

Until then he held Qui-Gon’s hand, exhausted his reserves of the force trying to help him to heal, and hoped beyond hope that he would wake up, that he wouldn’t die before proper help could reach them. 

Obi-Wan couldn’t see the sky anymore from the deluge of rain, making the night pitch dark but for the artificial lights the men had set up. His shoulder was burning like a fire, but shivered from the cold but made sure Ells didn’t see, and placed his own blanket around Qui-Gon’s battered body.

\----------

The evac took almost two days to arrive, dodging battles and sepratist ambushes to reach them safely, Qui-Gon hadn’t woken up, but he hadn’t died either, although he had reduced Ells to barbaric looking primitive procedures when the bacta ran out and Qui-Gon’s lung punctured. He was alive, sliced open but alive, and Obi-Wan clung to that as his guilt grew at having accepted any bacta at all. 

Qui-Gon was taken aboard and immediately suspended in a bacta tank and Obi-Wan had stood with his hands up against the glass for almost an hour, watching Qui-Gon’s vital signs slowly climb before he was dragged away by a healer. They didn’t let him get away without an exam and Obi-Wan was chewed out from what was found under his clothes, his shoulder was badly infected, the veins around it turned black, the wound itself emanating a sickly smell. When the healer had worked out it was not just from the fight two days ago, but older, she had written to the high council. 

Obi-Wan didn’t even care what she had said, as soon as he was released from her he’d gone back to Qui-Gon, sat by his tank. 

Cody came by to give him a report, and Obi-Wan’s throat had felt thick with every word that was spoken. Over a quarter of Qui-Gon’s battalion had died in the transport, he had no idea how he was going to tell Qui-Gon about the losses. 

Qui-Gon was moved from the tank after twenty four hours, and when the healers realised Obi-Wan would not be sent away to sleep, no matter how they tried, he was allowed to sit at Qui-Gon’s bedside, holding his hand as the bacta tank had not allowed. 

Qui-Gon looked better, more colour in his face, significant less over his chest. His lung and ribs had been healed, most of the damage to his body undone by the tank, but the healers had put him in a medically induced coma, wanting to keep his body - a notoriously stubborn one when it came to healing - resting for at least two days more, knowing there was no way Qui-Gon Jinn stayed in bed when the worst of his injuries were gone. 

The healer had looked at Obi-Wan shoulder while she explained that, as if she felt like she understood it now. But she was wrong, it wasn’t a bad habit Qui-Gon had taught him. It was one they had both taught themselves in this war, desperate to not be left behind while the other was sent out on another mission, back on their feet as soon as they could, hands fused together, refusing to be parted no matter the pace of their lives right now. 

Qui-Gon would be almost entirely healed by the time he woke, his injuries more numerous, but less singularly devastating than the blow from Maul’s saber all those years ago; that wound had taken almost a year to heal properly, and even know, Obi-Wan knew it still pained Qui-Gon on bad days. 

Qui-Gon was in a private room on the ship, though Obi-Wan knew his old master would hate that, hate that his men were on a ward while he was given special treatment, Obi-Wan was grateful for it. Grateful for the privacy it afforded him with the tears that he could rarely stop as he watched Qui-Gon’s face. How close he had come to losing him forever, on a battlefield Qui-Gon was only on because Obi-Wan couldn’t survive this without him. 

He never should have let Qui-Gon join the war, but it was done now, he couldn’t change the past and he couldn’t let go. He was an awful excuse for a jedi, but he knew the council would turn another blind eye, just like they did to everything else that happened here, between Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan behind closed doors. They couldn’t afford to lose a general, let alone two. 

With everyone stable, they were taking a longer, safer route back to Coruscant, it would take them almost a week, and Obi-Wan spent the first five days of it tense in the chair beside Qui-Gon’s bed, clutching his hand, only sleeping when his body lost consciousness against his will. 

He thought he was hallucinating when Qui-Gon first blinked open his eyes, having watched him like a hawk for so many days waiting for that exact moment, it felt surreal when it happened. Obi-Wan had stayed so close and clung so desperately that their force signatures were so blended and intertwined that Obi-Wan could feel Qui-Gon waking up, even if he was struggling to believe it. 

“Obi-Wan?” Qui-Gon asked, voice scratchy and raw. 

“I - ” Obi-Wan tried to speak but he burst into tears like he hadn’t since he’d left the creche, gone were the silent mournful tracks running down his cheeks as he sat by Qui-Gon’s bedside, replaced with wracking sobs that he couldn’t calm let alone stop. 

“Obi-Wan? Obi-Wan no,” Qui-Gon struggled to alertness faster than he should have after such a long rest and Obi-Wan found a new thing to feel guilty about, and cried harder, which only made the worry emanating from Qui-Gon down their bond redouble. “Hush my love, it’s alright, whatever it is it’s alright.”

Qui-Gon comforted him, Qui-Gon had almost died and Obi-Wan was the one needing comfort. He shouldn’t still need to be comforted by his master, his lover, he was a grown man, a seasoned knight, a general in the great republic army he thought with nothing but scorn and disgust, the charming facade he presented to the galaxy dead and gone in that moment, sobbing at Qui-Gon’s bedside, head buried in the sheets by Qui-Gon’s hip, unable to stop and growing more hysterical with every passing second. 

“Obi-Wan, please, please it’s alright,” Qui-Gon tried to coo but his voice was scratchy from so long unconscious, and Obi-Wan felt guilty as strong hands wrapped around his biceps and he was being pulled onto the bed, surprised by Qui-Gon’s strength, but perhaps not when he felt his panic from their bond, a desperate need to calm Obi-Wan.

Qui-Gon shifted to the side of his bed, making just enough space for Obi-Wan to lie beside him, to bury his face in that comforting neck and cling to Qui-Gon. Strong arms were wrapped around him, one stroking through his hair, the other running a soothing path up and down his back as Qui-Gon hushed him, told him it was alright, that whatever it was they would work through it together. 

Obi-Wan cried until a headache was threatening his temples, he cried until Qui-Gon’s neck and the neckline of his sleep shirt were soaked with his tears, he cried harder when Qui-Gon said that he loved him no matter what, that whatever had happened didn’t change how he felt. He could feel Qui-Gon’s usually calm demeanor slipping with every minute Obi-Wan failed to calm, and he felt guilty over worrying him like this, but it was still a long time before he cried himself out and managed to calm. 

“There, good Obi-Wan, it’s okay. I love you, I’ve got you,” Qui-Gon murmured as Obi-Wan’s tears and sobs finally died out, chased away as they always were in the end by the comforting hands on his skin and presence in his heart, Qui-Gon’s own worry receding a little with Obi-Wan’s louder sobs, though he continued to sniffle and burying himself in Qui-Gon’s side. “Can you tell me what happened, my Obi-Wan?” Qui-Gon asked, fingers playing with the hair at Obi-Wan’s nape. 

“You almost died,” Obi-Wan said, voice hiccoughing around his words, his fingers digging into Qui-Gon’s skin in his desperate grasp. He kept the other half of his explanation to himself, that Qui-Gon had almost died, and it would be Obi-Wan’s fault. 

“Oh Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon said, his voice breaking as he held Obi-Wan tighter. “I didn’t, I’m fine. I’m still here with you.”

_ Here with you _ , but that was half the problem wasn’t it. Where Obi-Wan was forcing him to be, why Qui-Gon had never wanted to be, against everything he believed. But Obi-Wan couldn’t abandon the war, he needed to be enough for Qui-Gon, to make up for everything he was being forced through by him. He hated himself, he loved his master, and the two became harder and harder to reconcile with every lost life around them. 

“I thought, I thought so many times that you’d died. I didn’t think you would ever wake up,” Obi-Wan said, words falling from him without his permission, an uncontrollable tide of his fears. 

“But I didn’t. I’ll always be here for you Obi-Wan. See, I’m here,” Qui-Gon reassured, his hands firm on Obi-Wan’s body, reminding him of the undeniability of his master’s presence. 

“Please,” Obi-Wan whimpered, and Qui-Gon understood what he needed, he always understood what he needed.

“I’m here, I’m here little one,” he soothed, dropping into an old pet name that Obi-Wan wished he still deserved. Qui-Gon manhandled him, something that had been thrashing wildly in Obi-Wan since the blast had hit the transport finally settling at the treatment as his master moved him. 

His hands were so big and strong and Qui-Gon pushed down the sheets and cradled Obi-Wan in his arms as he turned them both, until Obi-Wan was safe and caged beneath him, the weight of his master pressed against him, nearly crushing him, and calming him down instantly. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry Qui-Gon, I’m sorry I’m - ” Obi-Wan started and couldn’t stop, like the first few stones before an avalanche he could feel the hysteria welling up in his chest again but it was forced away as Qui-Gon silenced him with a kiss, cut off his words and dissipated some of his panic with his lips. 

It was difficult to think of much of anything with his master enveloping him like this, his kisses were so complete, their beards scratching together, the full bodied contact, the tongue pressing against the seam of his lips as he yielded easily, relaxed more as Qui-Gon dominated his mouth, claimed him and made him promises with nothing but his kisses. 

Qui-Gon was so thorough, pressing his tongue into Obi-Wan’s mouth and licking into him as one of his hands rucked up Obi-Wan’s shirt and plucked at Obi-Wan’s nipples, making him melt until he was pawing at his master’s pants, whining needily and spreading his legs. 

“So good little one, you’re alright, aren’t you?” Qui-Gon cooed, pulling Obi-Wan’s leggings away and baring his lower half, praising him and calming him when Obi-Wan quickly wrapped his legs around Qui-Gon’s wasit to keep him close, the contact helping him. 

He didn’t speak, worried about what he might say and putting all of his concentration into clinging to Qui-Gon, not letting him move more than a few scant inches away, not that Qui-Gon was trying to. He knew what Obi-Wan needed to calm in moments like this. 

All that was handy was a spare jar of bacta kept in a drawer and Qui-Gon summoned it with the force, slicking his fingers and pressing one to Obi-Wan’s tight hole, his entire body drawn up with tension, but Qui-Gon was patient and massaged his rim slowly, whispering sweet nothings and grounding reassurances into Obi-Wan’s ear until he relaxed just enough for Qui-Gon to press the tip of one finger inside of him. 

“Oh, oh please,” Obi-Wan whimpered, his body knew Qui-Gon so well that now that it had him again, it was easier to relax, his body opening for Qui-Gon more easily despite how tightly he was wound. 

“Yes little one, anything you want,” Qui-Gon breathed, pressing his finger deeper until he could reach Obi-Wan’s prostate and started rubbing at it rhythmically, reducing Obi-Wan to tiny whimpers, pleasure shooting through him and unwinding the dark panic that had wrapped itself so fully around his chest. “You’re doing so well,” Qui-Gon praised, stretching Obi-Wan on that finger. 

Obi-Wan’s eyes wanted to close, but he didn’t want to stop looking at his master. He was almost too close to see, kisses being peppered to his lips and face between the sweet words falling from his lips, but still Obi-Wan couldn’t look away, fighting to keep him in focus, to try and drown himself in those blue eyes, so filled with love he could hardly bear it, was scared of the power it gave him, and what he was doing with that power. 

His thoughts were ready to derail again when Qui-Gon soothed him and pressed a second finger inside quickly followed by a third, knowing what Obi-Wan needed, that he needed Qui-Gon to take him, to fill him and own him and soothe him in the deepest way he could. The third finger had come quickly enough that it had burned a little, but Obi-Wan liked it, it grounded him in Qui-Gon’s arms, kept him in the present as he was opened by his lover. 

Qui-Gon gentle away any discomfort with those long fingers that new him so well, added more bacta before pressing in with four spreading Obi-Wan more frantically as his own desire grew, throbbing down their bond as they created a feedback loop of pleasure between them, chasing away the darker thoughts that never truly left either of them anymore. 

“Please, please Qui-Gon. I need you,” Obi-Wan whimpered when he felt ready, it was easier when they were using bacta, soothing Obi-Wan as Qui-Gon’s huge cock pressed inside of him, and he was relieved for the quickened preparation time when he felt Qui-Gon press the slick head of his cock against his stretched hole, more panic around his chest unspooling from the feeling. 

“So lovely, little one, all mine,” Qui-Gon purred, voice strained as he pressed inside Obi-Wan’s hole, making pleasure soar through Obi-Wan as he finally calmed completely, no other thoughts able to keep their claws in him as he was filled by Qui-Gon. 

He whined and made small noises when Qui-Gon was fully sheathed inside of him, forcing him open around his cock and running a gentle hand down Obi-Wan’s side as he murmured his love into Obi-Wan’s ear. 

“So perfect for me. I’m here, I’ll always be here, and you’ll always be mine,” Qui-Gon’s voice was low, reverberated through Obi-Wan’s body until he was shivering, and begging Qui-Gon with his body to move. 

Qui-Gon fucked any thought out of his head but Qui-Gon, how much he needed him, how returned that feeling was; how bright and  _ light _ their love burned between them; the training bond that had long since morphed and grown into something so much more. 

“Shhh Obi-Wan, my heart, it’s alright,” Qui-Gon soothed when a couple of tears slipped past Obi-Wan’s eyes, knowing him well enough to know that they weren’t from pain, Obi-Wan so overwhelmed with feelings that it was as though his body couldn’t contain it. “No tears now my love, I have you,” he comforted, rolling his hips in a deep grind, barely pulling out of Obi-Wan at all as he coaxed his tears to stopping again. 

Qui-Gon wasn’t kissed him any more, but Obi-Wan didn’t mind because he had pulled back far enough that they could look at each other more easily, their eyes fixed together, joining them as surely as Qui-Gon’s cock was, fucking him so slow and so deep. Qui-Gon was grinding against his prostate with every movement, and Obi-Wan’s cock was drooling between them, so keyed up on too many emotions that he was ready to snap already, his desperation feeding into his master through their bond and driving him to the edge already as well. 

His eyes finally screwed shut when he came, gripping hold of Qui-Gon as tightly as he could manage as his body ceased around his thick cock, coming in desperate spurts against his own stomach as his clenching muscles dragged the orgasm from Qui-Gon as well, the feeling of his come filling him a final balm to him as they came gasped and sagged into their pleasure. 

“There, there little one. That’s better, isn’t it,” Qui-Gon’s voice was low and rough and full of love as he pressed kisses to Obi-Wan’s sweaty skin. But then: “I’m here, I’ll never leave you, wherever you go I will follow you, I will never leave you alone.” And Obi-Wan couldn’t stop the lash of guilt that caught him tight again.

“You almost died and  _ it’s my fault _ .” The words slipped past Obi-Wan’s lips unbidden, every shield and filter he had reduced to nothing by the way Qui-Gon held him, any peace he had gained from their release vanishing as quickly as it had come. 

“Oh Obi-Wan,  _ no _ ,” Qui-Gon said, but it was true and Obi-Wan knew that it was, and he was shaking again, all of his jedi control reduced to less than nothing. Qui-Gon’s cock slipped from his hole as he was moved again, cuddled to Qui-Gon’s chest as completely as he could possibly be, encompassed by those strong arms that he didn’t deserve. 

“It will be my fault. It’s my fault so many of your men died, it’s  _ my fault _ , you shouldn’t even be here, you wouldn’t if it wasn’t for me. You hate this war, it hurts you every day to be out here and it’s my fault.”

“No Obi-Wan, no my love, no, you cannot carry this guilt, it is not your fault, it is a choice I made and I will choose you every time. Do you understand me?  _ Every  _ time,” Qui-Gon said, voice firm, like it had been when Obi-Wan was a padawan, and he had risked his life for only a small gain.

“I should have left with you, I know I should have. But I can’t turn my back on this, on the men, not now, not after everything, but I’m hurting you. I’m making you stay, it’s my  _ fault _ ,” Obi-Wan’s voice wavered, almost shouting, fresh sobs threatening to spill out. 

“Obi-Wan I need you to listen to me,” Qui-Gon said, not continuing until Obi-Wan finally nodded, his face back buried in the crook of Qui-Gon’s neck, where he wished he could stay and never return to being a general. “I am here for you, you are right that if I didn’t love you so much I would have left the order and never been a part of this war. But I do not regret my choice. War hurts everyone in it, I do not hold a monopoly on that, no one is here because they want to be. But however much it hurts me, to be without you would hurt me so much more. 

“And before you say it,” he added quickly, cutting Obi-Wan’s off Obi-Wan’s intake of breath before it could become words. “I love every part of you, you are the most caring person I have ever known, I know you cannot abandon the men now and I would never ask you to, I will never ask you for something I know you cannot do. Do not feel guilty for a choice I made, and a choice I have never regretted.”

“Please don’t leave me,” Obi-Wan sobbed, and he hated himself for daring to say it

“I am exactly where I want to be, and I will never leave you,” Qui-Gon replied, holding Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan let the words sink into his bones, pushed away the voice that told him Qui-Gon wanted to be wherever Obi-Wan was, it  _ was _ Obi-Wan that was making that place a warzone, no matter his kind words. 

Obi-Wan fell into an exhausted sleep for a few hours in Qui-Gon’s arms, and when he finally woke they meditated together. Qui-Gon guided him like he hadn’t since he was a young padawan, helping him to release the guilt he was carrying until he felt more settled, more like he could pull the veneer of The Negotiator back over his skin and be what was expected - what was needed of him. 

His respite was short though. That evening Qui-Gon discovered the scar on Obi-Wan’s shoulder from the limits of bacta, the infection that had had to be burned away viciously because it had become so advanced. Qui-Gon knew what had happened without needing to ask. Obi-Wan saw his face fill up with a question - a desperate plea - for them to leave, but Qui-Gon never voiced the words, he wasn’t as selfish as Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan didn’t know how to leave. 

Instead he pulled Obi-Wan into his arms, kissed his scar and promised never to leave his side. Obi-Wan knew Qui-Gon would check every inch of his body after every battle now and he was almost relieved for it, for any small thing that was taken out of his hands.

Qui-Gon promised never to leave him, and Obi-Wan swelled with love and relief and guilt all at once. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed <3


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